Bad Habits
by Circuit's Dead
Summary: When coming home from a New Years Party, Little Mac sees something unexpected... For Paradigm of Writing's Comfort Zones Do Not Exist in Writing contest. Modern AU. Not my usual kind of story, so be warned. Rated M for subject material.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: For Paradigm of Writing's Comfort Zones Do Not Exist in Writing contest.**

 **So here it is, the most disturbing story I've ever written. I've written about none of these characters in a setting I've never done and in a genre that gives me nightmares. This also puts me over the 100K total word mark. Hurray.**

 **This is a modern AU, so locations, relations (e.g. Marth and Lucina are uncle and niece instead of decedents), personalities, and ages have been changed. Little Mac and Marth are about thirty-six years old, and Peach is twenty-seven. Lucina is younger, about twenty-two, and the character yet to be introduced is about sixty. You might be wondering why I changed their ages. Well, me too.**

 **Serious, I hope you enjoy. Don't forget to check out everyone else who's entered in the contest. I really appreciate this contest and what it's trying to do. This is far beyond my comfort zone, and I feel like I've push myself beyond what I normally write. I hope you enjoy Bad Habits, because I enjoyed writing this. See you at the end.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing but my crappy writing and what's left of my basic human decency. Nintendo owns the characters and stuff. So yeah... the story...**

* * *

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

She had kissed him. She had actually, legitimately kissed him.

Little Mac stood there, shocked beyond belief. He had been trying for a year to get Peach to kiss him, and finally, after persistence and dedication, she did it. She kissed him right on the lips. At first he had regretted taking Lucina and Peach to Marth's New Year's Eve party, but now... Little Mac's smile was like the half-moon hanging overhead.

Peach leaned back, smiling with the white pearly smile that she always had on her face. "Happy New Year, Little Mac." She whispered, a bit of mischief and happiness in her eyes.

"Happy New Years." He breathed back, his leg shaking uncontrollably. Usually when he got nervous, his right leg would shake wildly, and this moment was no exception.

"Happy New Years, guys!" Lucina yelled over the sound of the blaring music and the cheering party-goers. "This is some party, am I right?"

"This is the greatest party I've ever seen!" Peach shouted back. "How can they afford half of this stuff!?"

"My uncle has a lot of rich friends!" Lucina shrugged. "And man, do they have money to burn! Woo!"

"I'm so glad you could get us invitations!" Peach told her friend. "I'm having the time of my life!"

"Me too!" Mac admitted, putting his arm around Peach. Lucina raised her eyebrow, as if curious, but out of politeness she didn't press for answers.

"Mr. Mac." A voice behind him said. Turning around, the New Yorker recognized Marth, Lucina's rich uncle and lifelong rival of Little Mac. Marth met him with a gentle warm smile, which further irritated the former Bronx boxer. "I don't believe we've had a chance to talk yet." He extended his hand in a friendly gesture.

"I know." Little Mac gritted his teeth, not meeting his eyes. Marth, with a slightly flummoxed expression, put his hand down and slipped it inside his pocket.

"You two know each other?" Lucina said, surprised. "I thought you said you didn't know him!"

"You never asked." Little Mac said darkly.

"Oh yes, Mr. Mac and I go way back." Marth laughed, patting him on his back. "We went to Gressenheller together, in fact!"

"You went to Gressenheller?!" Peach said in surprise, looking at Little Mac. The short man shrugged casually, as if it didn't matter.

"I did before he came." He mumbled softly.

"It's great seeing you here, Mr. Mac!" Marth continued, undeterred. "I'm glad you accepted my invitation." Turning back to Lucina and Peach, he smiled. "I'm glad you took my niece as well. How's life in Smash City?"

"Great!" Lucina smiled. "Peach has been showing me all the cool places and sights to see! I'm working as a barista; you should stop by sometime!"

"I will, I will." Marth chuckled, scratching the underside of his chin. "And how are you doing, Peach?"

"I'm just fine!" She smiled. "How's business doing?"

"Ah!" Marth's eyes lit up at the mention of his chain. The entrepreneur owned the largest chain of restaurants in Shore City. Little Mac had always been jealous about Marth's success. _The Altean Prince_ (the name of his restaurant) had this killer burger sause that Mac had always tried to replicate, but with little success. For the most part, Marth's business had been blowing the competition out of the water; he was even expanding his enterprise to Smash City, Little Mac's home. "We've been doing great. How's _The Mac Shack_ doing?"

Little Mac smiled at the mention of his own small chain. "We've been doing fantastic." He smiled, butting into the conversation. "Sales are through the roof. We've never had it so easy. Peach convinced me to buy out the old drug store on Smash Street and renovate it; we should be up and running next week."

"Really?" Marth took a step back. "You're the ones who bought it out?"

"Yep!" Peach grinned. "Isn't that great?! Luigi sold it to us a such a cheap price too! It's right around the center of town anyways, so business will be booming!"

"You bought it out..." Marth mumbled, lost in thought. Shaking his head, he said, "I'm sorry, I spaced out there! Heheh..."

"No worries, Uncle!" Lucina reassured him. "This is a fantastic party anyways!"

"I'm glad you're all enjoying yourselves." Marth nodded. "I'm glad you could—"

"Marth!" A voice behind him said. A man in a black suit came walking up to the CEO. "It's that call you've been waiting for."

"Ah yes; I'll be there shortly." Turning back to his guests, he shrugged impishly. "I'm sorry, duty calls. I hope to see you around here again sometime!"

"I hope you invite us again!" Peach shook his hand. "This has been absolutely wonderful!"

"Thanks so much uncle!" said Lucina, quickly hugging him. He returned the gesture with his own warm embrace. When they let go, the entrepreneur turned to Little Mac.

"Mr. Mac?" He held out his hand. "I understand if you don't accept my sincere apology for college, but I wish that you do."

"And I never will." Little Mac glowered. "Happy New Year's, Marth."

"... Happy New Year's, Mr. Mac." Crestfallen, Marth left the room with the man in black.

"What was that Mac?!" Lucina gesticulated once she was sure her uncle was out of earshot.

"Sorry, sorry!" Little Mac grumbled, scratching he back of his head.

"He did apologize." Peach pointed out. "Whatever it is, you should at least give him—"

"Let's not talk about it, okay?" Little Mac snapped, surprising both of his friends at his sudden sharp tongue. "Come on, let's get outta here. The drive's three hours away and I want a head start."

Peach and Lucina exchanged confused glances, dubious of their friend's sudden mood swing. If the music around them hadn't been playing so loudly, one of them might have heard him mumble, "It's not like you would believe me anyway..."

* * *

Little Mac stepped into his petite battered car, beaten and exhausted. Rubbing his hair in frustration, he yawned, staring into the night sky. Dark clouds began blanketing the stars, washing the bright lights away in a tide of darkness. It was relaxing, Mac reflected, especially after dealing with Marth again.

"Thanks so much for taking us to Marth's little get-together." Lucina said, getting in the back seat of Mac's car. From the front of the vehicle, Little Mac could smell the rich perfumes that her uncle gave her, permeating the car like a bouquet of exotic flowers.

"Little get-together?" Peach snorted, sitting in the front seat next to Little Mac. "That was the biggest party I've ever been invited to!"

"Yeah, he's the greatest." Little Mac impatiently tapped his fingers on his steering wheel. "Can we just buckle up and go now?"

"Who the heck wears seat belts?" Peach rolled her eyes. "Get going already."

With a sigh of relief, Little Mac turned the ignition key, only to be met with the sound of sporadic sputtering. "Ah come on! I just had it checked last week!"

Someone knocked on the window of his car, surprising the short business owner. "Perhaps you need your car jumpstarted?" A familiar but muffled voice suggested.

"Marth!" Lucina opened the car door and hugged her uncle. "I thought you had to attend to business!"

"No business is my business if it prevents me from seeing my favorite niece!" Marth smiled, hugging her back. "I never got a chance to tell you goodbye— a real goodbye!"

Begrudgingly, Little Mac rolled down his window. "Hello sir." He smiled through clenched teeth. "It's great to see you. Again."

"Nice to see you too, Mr. Mac." Marth said flatly. Turning to Lucina, he asked, "Are you leaving so soon?"

"Yes sir!" Lucina replied, still in her uncle's arms. "We're headed on our way back before the storm hits."

A couple of hours ago, the televisions had begun to flash with warnings of a blizzard hitting Shore City and Smash City. It had already begun to spread across the North American continent, and it was growing bigger by the second. The meteorologists were all saying that this storm was the biggest storm in over three years, and it was only supposed to go downhill from here. Even Little Mac, who was not a worry rat by nature, began to become anxious of what was to come.

Marth's hasty words pulled Mac back from his thoughts. "Are you taking the main road?" The millionaire asked, scratching his chin.

"Yes sir." Peach answered. "It's about three hours away to Smash City, so we're hoping to beat it by then."

"You know, I actually have a back route you can take." Marth said. "It'll cut the travel time in half and save you the traffic. Not a lot of people take it, and I would prefer to keep it that way, if you know what I'm saying."

"Yes sir; we'll keep it a secret." Mac sarcastically saluted. "Now will you get your car already?"

"... I'll run around and get it." With that, Marth left.

"Mac!" Lucina whined, staring at her friend with genuine confusion. "Again?!"

Mac was about to backtalk her, but Peach interjected, "She has a point, Little Mac. He is only trying to help."

He couldn't bring himself to argue with her. Defeated, he slouched back in his chair and grumbled,"I can help myself; I'm no vegetable."

"Oh, here he comes!" Lucina said, standing on her toes to look. Mac snorted as Marth came rolling around the corner with a red hot Yoshi Corvette. Stopping in front of Mac's car, he stepped out with a pair of jumper cables.

"Here you are, Mr. Mac." Marth said before opening the hood of his vehicle. Little Mac stepped out of his car with a look of annoyance.

"About time." Little Mac mumbled. "I was worried you might've driven off."

The two moved in silence, working as if the other didn't exist. The tension was thick like the forest surrounding them, and only after Marth bumped into Little Mac did they speak.

"Little Mac," Marth said quietly, "it is my understanding that the drive from here to Smash City is long and monotonous. Why don't you and your friends stayed night here and allow yourselves some rest. I rather you not risk your lives..."

"It's fine." Little Mac quickly interjected. "No problem here. I'll have them home before the first snowflake."

"I must insist."

"I'll be fine." Little Mac insisted, growing increasingly disgruntled. "Now are we going to do this or what?" Before he could retreat back to his car, Marth grabbed his arm and drew him close.

"I have no idea why you are so persistent to get away from me," He whispered agitatedly, "and I have no idea why you won't forgive me, but that is not my concern. When you do leave, you must promise me this: do not stop along the roadway there. You stop for nothing and for nobody. Keep your head down, eyes on the road, and avoid the houses. Promise me this."

"Fine, whatever."

"Promise me! Say it!"

"Geez, I promise!" Little Mac jerked away from his firm grip. "Now can we go now?"

"Why certainly." Marth remained stoic and returned to his task, acting like nothing had even happened.

* * *

It was an hour down Marth's path when the storm hit. The snow was completely blocking the road now, the car crawling along at barely twenty-five mph. The windshield wipers useless; every time they wiped away the accumulated snow a sheet of new powder would take its place, even thicker than the last. The car's tracks were covered up faster than they were made, and at this point even Little Mac doubted that they were going to make it back home.

"Mac..." Lucina leaned forward from the back seat to whisper into her drivers' ear. "Look, Peach is asleep, so I'll make it quick. We need to pull over and seek shelter."

"Malarkey." Little Mac protested. "We're only a couple of miles away from home. It'll be quick."

"Mac, Marth just texted me. We're expected to get another foot of snow in less than fifteen minutes. I don't care where we stop, we just need to get out of the storm before we freeze to death."

Mac didn't say a word, his fists clenched firmly on the steering wheel and his eyes looking ahead at the road. He had always hated Marth. The millionaire had always irritated him for some reason. It was something about his personality... Mac couldn't lay a finger on it. Maybe it was his smile. The former boxer always felt as if it was put on Teflon: at any second it could just slip away. Marth's comments felt genuine but snobbish, as if the world was but peasants to him. Worst of all, everybody liked him. Everybody talked about him and how great he was. No one dare questioned Marth, and the worst part was that Marth was usually right anyways. The mighty Marth, richest man in the area and blah blah blah! Before him it was Mac who had all the answers, but that faded away once he got here.

Now Mac was the one with the Teflon smile.

After a few minutes of deliberation, Little Mac finally said, "Fine. There was a side road not far back from here. But not a word to Marth about this, you hear me?" Mumbling, he added, "Teach him about telling me what to do."

Lucina smirked, her eyes twinkling with victory and exhaustion. "I promise, not a word." Pausing, she added, "Why do you hate Marth so much? What happened in Gressenheller?"

Little Mac didn't turn around. "You won't believe me; no one does."

"Try me."

"It was simple: I had something he wanted: to be at the top of the class. He stole it from me by claiming that I had plagiarized him the whole time, without any regard on how it would affect me. And like everybody now, they believed him and threw me out." Mac sighed. "That's always been the case and that's how it will always be..."

"I don't believe that." said a defiant Lucina. "You're right. I believe my uncle has it in his heart to help."

"I told you." Little Mac replied. "No one ever does." He chuckled softly. "At least you believe in him. Not a lot of people are optimists these days."

"I believe in everybody." Lucina responded. "Even you, you old curmudgeon."

"Yeah, whatever." Little Mac waved her off. "And for the love of humanity, stop spraying so much perfume on yourself; you're stinking up the car!"

"No promises!" She smiled.

.o0O0o.

The side road was barely visible in the headlights of the car, and the only reason Little Mac had managed to see it through all of the snow was because of the little tin mailbox in front of the gap. Turning around had been tough through all the snow, but somehow Little Mac managed to start down the side path. The road was surrounded by huge trees, its branches towering over the automobile and grasping at nothing. The road underneath was either rocky or old, for the car occasionally bumped up in the air. Little Mac's eyes drooped from his own exhaustion, and he would occasionally close his eyes and wish he was home. Maybe he shouldn't have left for that stupid party. It's not like he even wanted to go in the first place.

 _Turn... Back..._

"Hmm?" Little Mac jolted awake. "Did you say anything?"

He turned around, but Lucina was asleep, just like Peach. Shaking his head, he turned back towards the road. "I must have been imagining things..." He growled. "I'm sleep deprived... That's it. I've been staying up too late anyways. I really need to get some sleep." He turned to look at Peach. Her head rested on the side door as she slept, occasionally shifting uncomfortably. She looked so peaceful, her diaphragm moving up and down in a slow rhythmic pattern that soothed the New Yorker. Little Mac smiled, looking at her with all the love he had to offer. Maybe one day, he would muster the courage to ask her out. Maybe tomorrow. After that kiss they shared tonight...

"We're not that far now." He whispered to her. "The house is up ahead. We'll make it." Although she couldn't hear him, saying those words aloud comforted him. Smiling, he turned back towards the road.

Then he saw him.

A boy— a young boy at that— was standing in the middle of the road. His red and yellow shirt was stained in crimson blood, four holes in his chest. One of his arms was cut off, blood dripping from the wound. His skin was pale gray like cement and his hair was completely snow white. His mouth was open in a silent scream, and his eyes... His eyes were completely terrifyingly white; there was no sign of his pupils. Little Mac could only stare helplessly as the boy came running at the car at full speed.

 _GO AWAY!_

Little Mac screamed in terror. Out of instinct, he jeered the car hard right in an attempt to avoid the child. Realizing what he had done, he slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The car came sliding off the road and straight into a tree. The last thing he remembered was the dashboard flying forward in his face.

Then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh he's coming to, just like he told me he would! Oh no, but I don't have lunch prepared! Oh my, this is awful! Shh... Just stay there while I go get the kettle started, sweetie. Oh my, how could I be so rude..."

The first thing Little Mac felt was a stinging sensation in his head and face, followed by a wave of nausea. One minute he had been driving the car and the next... everything was blurry after that. Not daring to sit up, he peeked his eyes open, trying to figure out where he was.

He was lying on a red polyester antique couch in the middle of what looked to be a living room. The warm rays of the fireplace to his right were flickering on and off, creating dancing lights on identical couch opposite of him. Behind that, Little Mac could see the front door, a coat rack nailed to the wall. To his left, the window to the outside world let in dim illumination, the sun hidden by the clouds. It was peaceful outside; the clouds had stopped snowing. In the center of the living room, an oak coffee table rested humbly, two empty teacups with saucers on them. Little Danish butter cookies arranged in a semi-circle sat on a silver tray nearby, inviting him to take a bite.

"I'm sorry the place is such a mess." A voice behind him said. "Oh, I've just been so busy lately! All of the cooking that needs to get done, and oh my! My husband got me on so many bad habits!" She came around the couch, placing a pot holder on the center of the table before taking a seat across from him. "I'm so sorry! Lunch is a little late, but I promise it's simmering as we speak!"

Little Mac looked at the woman. Her face was sagging with age and exhaustion; her straight combed hair was a mixture of brown and white. Her hands, covered by long white gloves, were resting gently on her wrinkled pink and white dress; golden patterns were woven into it. The woman presented herself in a kind and polite manner, giving him a warm smile and a friendly nod. Trying to ignore his queasiness, Little Mac sat up, moving aside the blankets on top of him.

"You're awake sleepy head!" She giggled. "Oh, it's so nice to have a visitor! It's been so long..."

"Where am I?" Little Mac asked, grabbing his forehead. "And who are you?"

"Oh silly me! I forgot to introduce myself! How rude!" The woman scolded herself. Looking back at Mac, she smiled. "My name is Zelda. Welcome to our home! My husband calls it Aborigine Hill, but I told him I didn't like that name. But my Link always wins, doesn't he! Heheh!"

"My name is Little Mac." The short man introduced himself. "How did... Where are...?"

"Oh my, the storm is so quiet today!" Zelda gasped, looking out the window to the left of Mac. "My, and you braved it all the way to see me, didn't you? How kind!"

"Braved it?" Little Mac recalled the side road he had spotted earlier that night— or at least he assumed it was last night. "Oh... I guess. But how did I get here?"

"Your car crashed into my tree!" Zelda reminded him, although it didn't look like she was addressing him directly. "I ran outside to help you as fast as I could! Oh my, it was awful! Your blonde haired friend— the pretty one— was dead when I got there. Poor girl. She wasn't wearing her seatbelt and was flung out the front window. I tried to help her, but... You're lucky, Mr. Mac. Your wounds weren't that bad. Just a cracked rib. I'll have you healed up in a jiffy!"

"Peach is..." Little Mac stared at her, shocked. "She's dead?"

"The poor thing." Zelda shook her head, her eyes filled with genuine sadness. "I wish I could've been there sooner. I wish..." She looked on the verge of tears.

"But..." Little Mac was at a loss for words. Hoarsely, he asked, "What about Lucina?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, the blue-haired girl?" Zelda looked up, the pain almost instantaneously vanishing from her face. "She's hurt, but she's in no pain. She's lying around upstairs in the guest bedroom. I would've moved you up there too, to make sure you were preserved, but you were just fine. I thought the couch might be better."

"Umm... Thanks..." Little Mac wasn't really sure what that meant, but he just decided to go with it. It was clear that this old lady was confused; sometimes when she spoke her eyes would glaze over as if she was speaking to something else. "Can I check on her later? She'll probably want to hear the news from me."

"News? What news?"

"That Peach is dead."

"Hmm?" Her eyes went cross for a minute, but then they cleared. "Oh yes. When she wakes up I'll make sure you get to tell her."

She stared absentmindedly out the window, mumbling to herself about something. Taking off her gloves, she started biting her nails. Little Mac rubbed his mouth, trying to take in all this news. Stupid storm. Stupid Marth. If the millionaire hadn't have warned Lucina, Peach would still be alive! Mac was positive he could've gotten his friends home safely, but Marth had to interfere. Now his Peach was gone forever.

"Oh my!" Zelda stopped and looked at her hand. "Oh silly me! I'm biting my nails again! How rude!" Turning to Little Mac, she embarrassedly shrugged. "Bad habits, you see. Link has me full of them!"

"This... Link." He said, trying to distract himself from Peach. "Is he here?"

"Hmm?" She gazed at him with another confused expression. "My Link? Oh no. He's gone away. Far away. But he'll be back; he promised me. He'll be back." She gazed off into the distance again, biting her nails.

Little Mac winced at the sudden stab of pain in his stomach and lied back down on the couch. He was still trying to piece together last night. Something had made him swerve off the road... that boy. The Bronx boxer vaguely recalled the gray skinned boy that ran at his car last night, and the screams echoed in his head like a voice in a cavern. It was by far the most terrifying thing he had ever seen. But did he see it? Mac couldn't tell if that was just a hallucination or a memory.

"No." He mumbled to himself. "Ghosts don't exist. I was just tired, that's all. The snow was blowing too fast and it obscured my vision. It could happen to anyone." But even as he said it aloud Mac didn't believe it.

"This storm's not that bad." Zelda said suddenly. Little Mac looked up at his host, raising an eyebrow out of curiosity. "Oh my, it was how many years ago? Four? Five? Do you remember, Mr. Mac?"

"I'm sorry, I can't help you." Little Mac shook his head. "I just moved to Smash City a year ago."

"Oh, it doesn't matter." She shook her head. "It was a terrible blizzard. The wind was blowing faster than a stallion. Why, it was awful; the worst one we've ever had. We were snowed in for three weeks, and food was becoming scarce." Zelda shook her head, laughing. "My Link's a hunter, you know. He's a great archer, but an even better rifleman. He has the eyes of an eagle! He could catch a deer running top speed without batting an eyelash! He even taught me how to hunt. Mind you, I wasn't a very good shot, but I could shoot pretty well, if I may say so. And how could I forget, no hunter was complete without his trusty hunting dog! His name was George, but Link liked to call him Duck Hunt."

"I assume he took him on duck hunts?" Little Mac joked, taking a butter cookie from the tray and eating it.

"Oh yes!" Zelda smiled. "Every weekend, just by the river out back. There's a little pond in our forest that he liked to hunt in, whether it was shooting pigeons or ducks or tin cans. And every time he would bring back a huge catch to feast on! Of course, I didn't eat any of it!" She laughed, lost in her memories.

"Why not?" Little Mac asked.

"Why, I only eat vegetables!" She giggled, shaking her head. "My Link loved meat. He couldn't get enough of it! And I am the best chef this side of town, if I do say so myself!"

"And where did he go?" Little Mac cautiously pressed. "Link?"

"Oh my." The light of the fireplace started to dim, and half of her face was covered in darkness. "He was arrested for murder. He went crazy, they said. They tell me that his teeth were bright crimson when they caught him. I didn't believe them; I told them they had the wrong man. My Link would never kill anybody. Not now, not ever. But he'll be back, he promised me." The room fell silent, the crackling fire breaking the depression settling at the bottom of the room.

A high pitch whistle went off behind Little Mac, surprising the young man. "Oh, that must be the tea!" She said excitedly, clapping her hands together. "I'll go get that. You just make yourself comfortable, sweetie!" She got up and started walking towards the kitchen.

In all honesty, Little Mac liked Zelda. She was a gentle— although confused— soul who seemed to love life. It was a shame that Link went mad though, Little Mac thought. She was a good person.

The sun came out behind the clouds, and a bright light shined into Little Mac's eyes. Annoyed, he held up his hands, trying to block out the sunlight, but it didn't help much. If it wasn't for the fact that the light was directly in his eyes, he wouldn't have been bothered by it and probably would've left it alone. But now that the brilliant golden rays were hurting his head... Begrudgingly, he sat up with a moan of pain. Once he was comfortable again, he tried to stand up to close the blinds. A sudden wave of nausea came flying back in, punching him right in the stomach. Queasy, he sat back down, trying to grab hold of the spinning world.

Then he saw it. It was in the darkened corner of the room, but now that the sun was out he could see it clearly. In the corner by the fireplace, a little wadded t-shirt sat idly by a dust covered box. In bewilderment, Little Mac almost fell out of his seat.

"That's the shirt that kid was wearing!" He breathed aloud, looking at the red and yellow t-shirt in amazement. Little Mac could even see the blood stains covering the front of the t-shirt, dried and crusty like burnt cheese.

"I almost forgot the sugar!" Zelda chuckled lightly, walking back into the room with a teapot and a box of tea in her hand. "But I knew I put it out here already, so I didn't even bother searching for it, heheh! Now I've got a variety of sampler teas—"

"How did you get that?" He interjected, pointing at the t-shirt. Zelda looked confused, staring at him before following his finger to the object. Her face got dark and old, her previous joyous expression eradicated.

"Oh my. Let me get the window first." She said quietly, placing the kettle down on the hot pad before closing the blinds. The room instantly got dark, minus the light of the fireplace.

"I swear, I've seen that before." Little Mac told her. "In a dream or something."

"That... that's Lucas's shirt." She said solemnly, striding over to the shirt and picking it up. Holding it out, Little Mac could see four bullet holes in the chest, just like he remembered it.

"But... that's impossible!" He whispered to himself. "This is some kind of dream!"

"That boy was a no good trouble maker." She growled angrily. "Always picking on me and my husband. Throwing rocks at our windows, blowing out our tires, kicking our poor little old Duck Hunt Dog. The nerve of that child, humph!" She began pouring her tea, her hands shaking. "He's been missing for a number of years now. His whole family too. No one knows what happened. They just disappeared."

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to him?" Little Mac inquired. "When he was here? I swear, I've seen that shirt somewhere."

Zelda shook her head, her eyes filling with sadness. "It was during the blizzard. Link was out for a hunt with George, and they were gone for a while. Link was getting frustrated everyday because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get a single catch. Everyday he would come home saying something about no game anywhere. Now we were getting hungrier and hungrier each day, and Link kept trying his best. I was tending the logs for the fire when Link came rushing back in the house, yelling at me to get my medical kit. Poor Lucas. Apparently he had run off from his home and gotten lost in the woods. Trying to get food, he said, to feed his family. Link had thought him to be some wild animal and shot him. My husband had to give him credit, though. It took him three bullets to put him down."

"Three shots?" Little Mac frowned. "Did you say three?"

"Yes sir." Zelda nodded. "I remember pulling out each one of them. One wound was so bad that we had to amputate his arm all the way down from the shoulder. It snapped the bone completely in half; I didn't know what else to do. Lucas screamed the whole time, yelling and fighting me. No anesthetic, you see. And don't take those movies literally, being knocked unconscious isn't as easy as it sounds and is far more dangerous than they make it out to be. But he knew we had to do it if we were going to survive.

"We put him up in the guest bedroom, the nicest place in the house. We were starting to starve; Link was getting anxious everyday. Still no game came out, and he kept yelling at me for giving our rations to Lucas. He hit me— out of love— when I gave Lucas the last of our bread. My Link was up to his neck in frustration, and I felt helpless.

"A couple of days later, he told me that he was going to take him away, which I was ecstatic for Lucas. His poor parents must have been worried sick. I know I would be if I could have children." Zelda paused, taking a sip of her tea. "It was a long time before Link came walking back in. He was smiling immensely; his grin was bigger than I've ever seen it. And in his arms he held the biggest catch I had ever seen! And I told him, 'Good deeds do pay off!' and he agreed. It was mutilated, but I had no problems cooking it. And everyday Link came walking back in with more catches, and I kept cooking them! Oh my!" She laughed, taking a sip of tea. "But I didn't have any of it; I only eat vegetables."

"What happened to Lucas?" Little Mac asked, taking a bite of a cookie. "Did he go missing shortly after Link took him home?"

"Hmm? Lucas?" Zelda went crossed-eyed. "Lucas? Oh my, he was a naughty boy! Humph! I have to tell you about him! He was not my favorite!"

"Ah..." Little Mac frowned at her suddenly memory loss. "Ma'am, you told me already."

"I did?" Zelda looked genuinely confused, as if Little Mac was speaking another language. "Oh my, I haven't thought about him in years! You must be confused, sweetie."

The grandfather clock in the living room chimed, echoing throughout the household. "Oh my, I forgot about lunch!" Zelda said, getting up. "Oh my, how could I be so careless! Let me just get that for you!" She walked away, humming some chip tune as if their conversation never happened.

Little Mac shuddered, his gaze not breaking from the t-shirt. _Three shots... Three shots..._ But there was four shots in the shirt.

"She must have meant four shots." Little Mac decided. "She's a bit confused anyways; it's not like she's the most sane person."

Deep inside, Little Mac didn't believe that.

"Oh, lunch is ready!" She smiled, walking in with two bowls of soup in her hand. "Trust me, this soup will knock your socks off! I've been working all day. I hope you enjoy!"

"Thank you, Zelda." Little Mac gratefully accepted the bowl and set it down on the table. "You've been a gracious host."

"Oh my, why thank you." Zelda smiled politely, blushing. "I'm lucky to have such great company! Now please, enjoy yourself!" With that, she began to eat.

Little Mac stared down at his soup, darkened by the light. The smell offset him for some reason. It smelled familiar... Was that perfume he smelled? He just couldn't put his finger on it. The food nauseated him for some reason, to the point that he could barely look at it.

"Zelda..." Little Mac asked cautiously. "If you don't eat meat... how did you survive without any food? What did you eat?"

She looked up, staring at him with her hazel green eyes and a bright crimson smile. "Why, Little Mac, I only eat vegetables."

Little Mac stood up, ignoring the pain of his ribs. "No... I know that smell..."

"Mr. Mac, where are you going?" Zelda asked, standing up. "Did I forget the salt again? Oh my..."

"I... I have to go. N— Now!" Little Mac stammered, backing up cautiously. He tripped over his own feet, falling hard on his back.

"Mr. Mac, but you haven't even touched your soup!" She whimpered, pointing to his bowl. "You aren't that rude, are you?"

"I... I have to go!" Little Mac tried standing up again. Grabbing his side in pain, he started rushing towards the front door.

"The bathroom his upstairs if you need to go sweetie!" Zelda chuckled. "Just take a right!"

 _Upstairs... Lucina!_ Painfully, Little Mac turned right and started climbing up the stairwell. Each step was incredibly painful, the pain in his sides stabbing into him like icicles. The stairway seemed endless; for every step he took it felt as if two more popped up. All the while, he could hear Zelda humming to herself behind him, taking huge gulps of her soup.

"Don't be too long, sweetie!" Zelda called out. "Just you wait for dessert; you'll ravenously devour it, I promise!"

Dizziness enveloped him as Little Mac got to the top of the stairs. Stumbling around blindly, he desperately grasped at the handles of the doors, trying to find the guest bedroom in a desperate attempt to save Lucina. He felt numb, his mind and body frozen with fear and adrenaline. Randomly, he flung the doors open one by one, each of them empty.

"Little Mac? Are you okay up there? Should I come and help you?"

Little Mac didn't pay attention to her as he continued his helpless cause. Finally, he came to the room closest to the stairwell. His right leg was shaking violently. Touching the chilled door handle, he swung it open, ready to call out to Lucina and get out of there.

Instead it was Peach.

"No— No!" All around the bedroom, dismembered and mutilated body parts lay hanging from the ceiling, tied to it by tassels. Below each part was plastic Tupperware, collecting the blood that dripped from above. Against the wall, countless containers of bright red crimson swirled with pieces of flesh and bone collected inside of it. On the bed, Peach's head rested inside a huge plastic box, her skin pale gray like cement and her once beautiful blonde hair was completely snow white. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, and her eyes...

Her eyes were completely terrifyingly white. There was no sign of her pupils.

"You shouldn't have come up here." Zelda voice said behind him. Little Mac whirled around, his eyes filled with horror and shock. Zelda came walking over him, looming like a towering tree over him. In her hands was a large stainless steel kitchen knife, covered in bright crimson.

"No— No!" He pushed past her, running for the stairs. Carelessly, he tripped over his own feet and fell down the stairs like a rubber ball. When he hit the floor, he heard a loud snap in his left arm.

"AH!" He screamed, grabbing his broken limb. Zelda came walking down the stairs, doing a nonchalant "tisk tisk" as she came closer and closer.

"Oh my..." Zelda frowned, looking at the helpless man on her floor. "Your arm is fractured. This is terrible! I'm going to have to move you upstairs; this is no place for you. Let me just fix that arm for you."

"No, please—" The knife came slashing down; Little Mac's screams echoing throughout the house.

"Wait... Marth... No... _NO_!"

"Shh, everything's going to be alright, Mr. Mac. But what about the rest of your arm? Oh my... I'll fix that right up." The blade came down again, but it didn't stop there. The silver weapon came down again and again in a flurry of swift blows until no more screaming could be heard in the house. After she was done, Zelda started sobbing, falling to her knees.

"Link got me on so many bad habits..."

* * *

 _I..._

 _Warned..._

 _You..._

* * *

 **A/N: Well, I'm going to cry in my room now, next to a strangely placed ladder. Speaking of which, the lights in my room still hasn't been replaced, so writing this story was as creepy as all heck. I have never done something like this, so in terms of spirit of the contest I think I nailed it. I think.**

 **Shoutouts:**

 **Leafshadows the Great: Seriously, without this guy, this story would've never been publish. He offered huge tips and suggestions that really got this out there and made it a thousand times better. I can't thank him enough for his suggestions and support. Also, ADC Bard five-ever.**

 **Writers Anonymous: They really helped my get the story rolling by helping me with my biggest flaw as a writer: starting a story. These guys really helped me, and I can't thank them enough. I really appreciate their tips and reminded me that we're all writers here.**

 **Paradigm of Writing: Thanks for hosting this contest and dealing with my barrage of late questions regarding the contest. By helping the lesser written Smashers out, you've helped the struggling minority, and we thank you for it.**

 **I don't care if I place or not. Really, I don't. This was a fun project, and I'm glad to get it off my chest. I've always wanted to attempt something like this, and I've never been so excited in my life working on a project like this. So even if I do poorly in the contest, this story has earned a place in my heart. (Awwwwwwwwww!)**

 **And by the way, if you're confused about anything, read it again. You might've missed the story... And if you're still confused after that, either PM me or leave a review asking. I'm curious to see your thoughts about the story, good or bad. If necessary, I'll write another chapter after the contest explaining the story.**

 **Until then, sweet dreams...**


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